The Fieldstone Review

Riding the Wild Nor’wester

by Donna Faulker

Spider's web a
sticky mess to clean. Whistling
kettle boiled over

again. It’s never
cold. My tea cup waits, empty.
I wish to leave behind,

the spider, its messy
cobwebs snaring
flies outside. I wish

to drift away
ride the wild nor’wester.
It’s hot breath

shouts at washing
drying. It preserves the baby
bird who failed

at flight, a tiny body
decaying prone on scrap.
Too young to fly, his nest

replaced. I wish upon
puffed up dandelion faces
ready to be set adrift.

The nor’westers
thieving teeth
tossing washing, stashing

pegs. Pink and blue
confetti in the hedge.
It’s blustery tail, trails

away but I remain.
The window web flexes
The tea cup waits.

The bird is becoming dust
Dandelions bend but don’t break.
A wish granted but not for me